With a sense of irony and everyone You see is chasing their illusion
Take a dive or sink or swim
But in the end You're in the same pollution
In your world escape is swift
The nonsense list Is all you need to know
In the land of dreams You make the right connections
Then you'll be the hero...
Ecstasy - The cult of me provides our institutions
You can live forever
With a grave that stands where people used to function
You can join the saviours of our culture
Vultures circling overhead my sky
Like the sin of gluttony won't set you free
(But Betty Ford can help you try)
You can get all the things
You never needed
You can sell people crap
And make them eat it
Where is our John Wayne
Where is our sacred cowboy now?
Where are the indians on the hill
There's no indians left to kill
Taken from AlbumSongAndLyrics.comPeople die with oxygen and all their money can afford a breath
People starving everywhere and staring in the face of death
Prostitutes and politicians laying in their beds together
You can be the saviour of the poor
Making up the policies to open the back door...